


the flicker burning

by finkpishnets



Series: oh, tonight (we'll all be outlaws) [2]
Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: Character Study, Companion Piece, Domestic Violence, F/M, Gen, Post-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 11:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20135041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finkpishnets/pseuds/finkpishnets
Summary: “Do you trust me?” Helena asks, catching them both off guard, and Luke halts, pulling her to a stop.“Of course I do,” he says.Oh, she thinks.When did you become such a good liar?





	the flicker burning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuraSweet13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuraSweet13/gifts).

> aurasweet13 asked me if i’d write a helena-centric companion fic to [oh, tonight (we’ll all be outlaws)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20122957), and obviously i jumped at the chance. i hope it’s what you were looking for.
> 
> **warnings;** canon domestic violence. campbell eliot.

**~**

“I love you,” Luke says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Everything about him’s gentle, and Helena wishes she could focus on that, only that, and not the shadows behind his eyes. 

_He’s just tired_, she thinks. Responsibility in chaos will do that. Helena feels like she can barely keep standing herself, more and more hours spent in the church counselling scared children and trying to temper the flames of discontent and anger ready to suffocate everyone within reach.

She believes Luke — _has to_ — but it doesn’t mean the fallout isn’t severe.

They’ll deal with it, though. They always do.

“I love you, too,” she says, and means it with her whole heart.

She hopes that’s enough.

**~**

She spends more nights than not alone. 

Harry (Campbell) has insisted on increased patrols, and Luke may not be mayor but he’s taking pride in his new responsibilities anyway. If Helena’s honest, she’s not sure what’s really so different than under Allie’s rule; the Guard is still the Guard, just with more booze and less control. 

She’ll follow Luke to the ends of the earth, but she can’t pretend that’s not a recipe for disaster.

In the meantime there’s just exhaustion and loneliness.

Elle’s around less and less, and Helena can’t bear to think about what that means. Campbell’s sitting in his seat behind the throne, the smugness radiating from his every pore, and it’s all Helena can do not to push him down a flight of stairs. She’s not that person, never could be, but the thought of Elle trapped in that house at his mercy is almost enough to change her mind.

Instead she prays, sits in the pews until her ass is sore and her fingers ache from being clenched so tightly. She prays until she’s dizzy with it and then some more for good measure. 

The rest of the time she just feels helpless.

**~**

“Yo, has anyone seen Grizz?” Jason asks, throwing popcorn at Clark across the room. Helena’s long since stopped worrying about butter staining the rug.

“Uh, yeah,” Clark says, batting the corn away with an annoyed hand.

“When?” Jason says, and Clark frowns.

“I dunno. This morning?”

Jason shrugs and reaches for another beer, but Helena can’t help wonder if that’s true. If someone asked, she’d probably say she’d seen Grizz too, but now she really thinks about it she can’t remember _when_. Jason and Clark set fire to the microwave yesterday so it can’t have been any time lately. 

Luke hums from where he’s asleep in her lap, feet over the end of the couch, and Helena wonders if she should ask him. Grizz is his best friend, after all. 

Except…

It’s not really her business.

**~**

Winter comes on them too quickly, and Helena collects blankets and thermal clothes to distribute as best she can. Lexie frowns at the suggestion they form a team to check the empty homes for coats and electric heaters, and it’s only because Harry’s too hungover to listen to her that she’s given the go-ahead. 

“It’s ridiculous,” she says, organizing duffle bags. “What do they think? That winter’s just not going to touch them because they’re _important_ now?”

“Don’t say that in front of Harry,” Luke says. “He’ll be upset you haven’t _always_ thought he’s important.”

Helena sighs running a hand through her hair and trying not to despair aloud. “Harry’s a petulant child,” she says, because that at least is true. “It must suck that money and popularity were the entire extent of his personality and he doesn’t know how to function without them, but shockingly that won’t stop the expected _snow storms_.”

“He’s not so bad,” Luke says, shrugging his shoulders as he finishes his yogurt. By _not so bad_, Helena’s assuming he’s finally opened up his dad’s liquor collection to the limited masses. 

“Here,” she says instead of arguing, dumping a pile of blankets and wool jackets in his lap.

“Uh,” Luke says, blinking in confusion. “Thanks?”

“They’re for Allie and Will,” Helena says, and watches Luke’s expression shut down in dawning horror. “I’m assuming no one’s thought about keeping them warm. Unless you’ve got them stashed in a boiler room somewhere.”

“I can’t tell you that,” Luke parrots, and Helena can almost _hear_ Campbell’s orders in the words.

“So don’t tell me,” she says, and hopes he knows what he’s doing (_God_ does she hope). “Just get these to them.”

He bites his lip and she wonders, horribly, if that was the plan. To let them freeze, their deaths out of any one persons hands. 

_Luke wouldn’t do that_, she thinks, shaking it off and smiling when he finally nods in agreement.

(She wonders if she’s getting more cynical the longer they’re trapped here, or if she’s just finally paying attention.)

**~**

By the time spring rolls around, she’s ready to never see this group of teenage boys again. Three months of them camped out on her living room floor, gorging on more food than they should have access to and disappearing only when they’re summoned is enough to drive anyone crazy.

The sun feels like a blessing right up until it flickers over the bruises on Elle’s face.

“What the hell did he do to you?” Helena snaps, curling gentle fingers around Elle’s jaw even as Elle’s shoulders tighten.

“It’s nothing,” she says, and Helena knows she doesn’t believe that, sees it in the anger and despair in her eyes, and feels it thrum straight into her own bones.

“It’s not nothing,” Helena says, with as much conviction as she can muster, and Elle’s dismissive shrug feels like heartache.

“It has to be,” Elle says, and the horrible, _terrifying_ truth of it is that she’s right. Campbell’s running the show, and anyone that doesn’t want to end up dead needs to keep their mouth firmly shut.

Helena feels like she’s going to throw up.

“We’ll think of something,” she says, a promise she doesn’t know how she’ll keep.

Maybe it’s ironic that the softness in Elle’s expression reads as pity.

**~**

The library’s on fire. 

“What have you _done?_” she cries, grabbing the closest Letterman jacket. It’s Jason and he just blinks at her with stunned eyes, the kerosene still in his hands.

“What we were told,” he says, shaking her off. “Geez, Helena, relax.”

“_Relax?_”

“Yes,” Campbell says, and despite the heat of the flames, Helena feels cold. “Relax, Helena. Unless you want the church to be next. It could be a history lesson. A modern day Dissolution of the Monasteries, or whatever.”

“Dude,” Jason says, shuffling uncomfortably.

She clenches her teeth and resists the urge to throw kerosene in Campbell’s face.

“We need to find extinguishers before it spreads,” she says instead, her jaw painfully tight, and Campbell laughs, throwing his head back.

“Sure,” he says, “if you want.”

He wanders off to torment someone else, and Helena’s knees threaten to give way. She’d been so sure she was doing the right thing, fighting for Luke, encouraging him, standing by him when he told her—

Well.

But here they are. Luke’s no more in charge than before, and instead the town’s _literally burning_. 

“Come on,” Jason says, catching her weight before she falls. “Let’s uh. Go find those extinguishers or something. Should I call Luke?”

“No,” she says, pulling herself together. “No. I’m okay.” 

Lying’s a sin, but she thinks God will forgive her in the face of survival.

**~**

Helena runs her fingers through Elle’s hair.

Her leg’s falling asleep under the press of Elle’s cheek, and she doesn’t know how long they’ve been sat here for, but it feels like hours. She won’t move, though, not for anything. Not when Elle’s finally resting.

She hasn’t cried. Helena wonders when that last part of her broke, and hates everything.

_Lord, please_, she prays, and Elle sighs.

“I asked Allie to arrest me,” she says, and Helena jolts.

“What?”

“I asked her to. I told her about Campbell.”

The words are matter-of-fact but Helena feels it like a four wheeler to the chest.

_Oh no_, she thinks. _Oh no, oh no, oh no_.

“_Elle_,” she says, and Elle curls her fingers around Helena’s knee in quiet forgiveness.

“I hope she’s okay,” Elle says, and _God_, Helena does too.

**~**

People are disappearing.

She’s sure she must have noticed before now, but it’s only when they’re walking down Main Street and she realizes Luke’s taking count of everyone they pass that it really twigs.

People are disappearing, and the Guard aren’t happy about it.

“Hey,” Luke says, as if reading her mind, “have you seen Gwen lately? Clark’s worried about her.”

Helena thinks about, shaking her head.

“Huh,” Luke says with forced casualness, and drops the topic.

She wonders when that happened. When they stopped talking about everything. The ring on her finger glints in the sun.

“Do you trust me?” she asks, catching them both off guard, and Luke halts, pulling her to a stop.

“Of course I do,” he says.

_Oh_, she thinks. _When did you become such a good liar?_

**~**

“It’s a safe place,” the sophomore whispers. “Away from _them_.”

“Really?” the other boys asks, voice full of hope.

She wonders if she should tell them how good the acoustics in the church are. 

Instead she reaches for the stack of bibles closest to her and follows them through the woods.

“Helena,” Grizz says, looking tired and whole in a way she thought they’d all stopped being a long time ago. 

It’s…amazing, God. There’s a village worth of trailers and greenery _everywhere_, kids laughing as they weed the ground and carry baskets of fresh produce to and from large garden tables under a tarpaulin shelter. Everyone’s sunburned and freckled and _relaxed_, and Helena wants to cry.

She follows Grizz through tilled land and leaves the bibles of the side.

It’s too much. She hadn’t even known this was happening, too caught up in the fear of what it meant to be close to Luke, to Elle, to be in Campbell’s line of sight. 

Grizz has turned nothing into a paradise, and it hurts to breathe.

She can’t be here.

“Hey,” he says, voice that same soft drawl that fools everyone into forgetting he’s the smartest of them by a clear mile. “Are you okay?”

She’s not.

She’s _really_ not.

But she’s better than a lot of people.

“If I can get Elle here,” she says, and finally feels like maybe, just maybe, she can make good on her promise, “can you protect her?”

Grizz watches her carefully, and she can see every eventuality flash behind his eyes. He knows what she’s asking, and his answer will be a promise of its own. 

“I can try,” he says eventually, and it’s more than she could have hoped for.

**~**

She packs a bag of clothes, a toothbrush from the pile she’s been hoarding under the kitchen sink, and waits until she can get Elle alone.

“Go,” she says, _pleads_, and Elle’s blackened eyes flash with something powerful.

“Okay,” she says, and for the first time in a long time she’s standing tall like the dancer she is.

Helena’s so proud of her.

**~**

Luke looks afraid.

Helena ignores it, ignores the danger in Campbell’s eyes and the nervous tinge to Jason’s laughter when he sits with her at lunch.

There’s hardly anyone left in New Ham and she couldn’t be happier.

“Uh, where’d everyone go?” Harry asks, handing Jason a beer. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, something hysterical in his features, and Helena may not like him but she wonders if anyone’s noticed how close he is to a breakdown.

“Grizz’s farm or whatever,” Jason says. Helena can’t pretend she’s not surprised he’s noticed.

“His what now?” Harry asks, and Helena leaves before she can be dragged into _that_ conversation.

**~**

Elle looks happy.

Or—

No.

She looks _fierce._

Helena thinks maybe that’s better.

The trailer she’s sharing with Gwen and Bean is small and crowded and full of the touches that speak of young women and creative outbursts and hard work. There’s muddy boots by the door, pressed flower samples on the table next to Bean’s scribbled calculations, hand washed underwear drying over the stove.

Helena wonders why she feels jealous.

“So,” Grizz says, dropping onto the bench next to her at the table sinking beneath huge bowls of soup and salad. “What do you think?”

Sam wanders by, baby Eden over one shoulder, and runs his fingers through Grizz’s hair. Grizz leans into it, pressing a soft kiss to the palm of Sam’s hand, watching him with fond eyes as he goes on his way.

Somehow Helena missed _that_, too.

She’s always thought she was a perceptive person. This alternate universe is teaching her all kinds of things.

“What were we talking about?” Grizz asks when he seems to remember she’s there. Helena wishes they were still close enough that she could tell him how adorable he looks right now, dopey smile and bright eyes, cheeks flushed with fresh air and hard and work and love.

“Your hippie commune,” she says instead, and hopes he still knows when she’s joking.

He tips his head back and laughs, so she thinks they’re good. 

“I’m cool with that,” he says.

Honestly, everyone seems to be.

Elle spots her from across the potato patch, smiling brightly, and Helena thinks, _Thank you, Lord_.

“There’s a space for you when you want it,” Grizz says. “No pressure.”

_Not yet_, she thinks. 

But—

Maybe.

**~**

“I love you,” Helena says, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Luke’s mouth.

“I love you, too,” he says, and that, at least, is true. She knows it down to her bones. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” she says, and he pulls back, horror dancing over his face, and she kisses it away before he can freak out too much. “I don’t mean _this_. I mean…New Ham. Campbell and his puppets. Being afraid all the time.”

“I’ll protect you,” Luke says, and she can’t help but admire the strength of it. He means it, she knows, but she’s learnt a lot about promises lately, and some are futile from the start.

“It’s not just that,” she says, tries to put it in words the best she can. “It’s not just physically. I need to protect my soul.”

He frowns, and it’s as cute as it was when they were fifteen and playing by old-fashioned courting rituals. “Is this a religious thing?”

“No,” she says, and can’t fight her smile. “Not really. It’s…Luke, there are days I don’t recognise parts of me. I try so hard to be true to myself, but I think I’ve been keeping my eyes closed for a long time.”

He’s still frowning, but she knows every part of this boy, and she knows he understands. This person, moulded in fear and anger and confusion isn’t who Luke is. This version of society they’ve been playing at has crept under his skin and taken over, and she knows there’ll be a day soon when he wakes up and realizes what she has. 

That sometimes it’s about making a choice.

“I don’t just want to survive anymore,” she says. “I want to _live_.”

“You’re leaving,” he says, and it’s not a question.

“Yes,” she says.

Choice made.

**~**

“Welcome to the hippie commune,” Gwen says, a shovel slung over her shoulder. Helena’s sure she didn’t have those arm muscles the last time she saw her.

“Grizz told you about that, huh?” Helena says, dropping her bag before her own arms give out. Clearly farming has its perks.

Gwen grins and swings the bag over her free shoulder, and _yeah_, okay. Helena’s got some work to do.

“Kelly’s not officially living here yet,” Gwen tells her, leading the way through swarms of happy kids. Helena thinks she spies a tiny girl napping amidst the rhubarb bush. “But she has a trailer set aside for when she comes by to give everyone check ups, so, lucky you, you get all that space to yourself for the most part.”

There’s no jealousy in her voice, and it’s so different after the _take, take, take_ of New Ham.

“Thanks,” she says, and means for so much more than the trailer.

Gwen squeezes her arm and leaves her to settle in.

Bean and Gordie are knelt in a nearby bed taking soil samples whilst a crowd of freshman watch over their shoulders. There’s a roar of activity as a group appears from the edge of the forest, fishing rods in hand and wide grins that speak of a successful day. Elle’s talking to Becca as they prepare lunch, Eden asleep in her pushchair, chopping bright orange carrots and oversized zucchinis that make Helena’s mouth water. Grizz’s laugh fills the air, and she finds him watching Sam’s hands with happy intensity.

She sits on the steps of her new home and takes a deep breath.

It tastes like a fighting chance.

**Author's Note:**

> come hang out with me on [tumblr.](https://madroxed.tumblr.com/)


End file.
